In my dream it all happened in reverse: One last kiss at the tent flap; muffled laughter hours before dawn; a self-imposed rule broken; on our backs underneath undulating lights, hands clasped; arms around me as the explosions finally got underway.

I took a picture of the street as I walked back to camp, the residents of our neighborhood trudging beneath the morning sun. I wanted to remember it that way, hazy and new. I wanted to remember it as the beginning of something, not the end.